Trust Machines - Cassiopeia 1

Cass watched as her friend strutted her stuff on the stage.  She’d watched Tara in every amateur theatre play she’d done, but this was the first time she’d been backstage for it.  She’d seen how Tara could pour herself into a character before, and putting on the blonde wig for her turn as Alice had been no different.  Tara owned the stage, and Cass smiled proudly as she declaimed her way through the monster soliloquy that the director had added just for her.

Brian the stagehand approached her then.  “Scene’s almost done.  Ready for your big part?”

Cass chuckled at that.  When Tara had finally dragged her into coming to audition with her, Cass hadn’t gotten a part.  But she had been asked if she wanted to help backstage, and had agreed to help Old Frankie with the props.  The kindly silver-haired woman had taken her under her wing, and she learned a lot about stagecraft, and the history of the theatre group.  It had been around for over 50 years, and Old Frankie had been there for most of that.

What had really amazed Cass was that this little old woman was sharp as a tack and up on all the modern conveniences.  Her phone was newer than Cass’ and she knew how to use it well, though she did sometimes grumble about nobody writing letters any more while tapping out a text.  Even more impressive was how she’d taken to the Venn Machine to help turn an amateur theatre production into one that looked professional grade.  All the costumes were Venn-made, tailored on the actors and actresses directly.  Cass’ job had been to help with the hand props.  She would go into the Venn Machine with Frankie and get changed into a table and a pile of props.  Frankie then put the props in a box, and returned the table to the Venn Machine, restoring Cass until the next batch of props needed to be made.

Cass had found it a bit bewildering at first, being so many things.  She was glad that when she changed back to herself, she could no longer feel them.  Still, watching people using the props, props that had been part of her, she felt a sense of pride.  She was helping, and part of the play.

Cass broke out of her reverie as the curtains closed, and grinned at Brian.  “Of course I’m ready, how could I not be?”

He grinned, and scooped her up in his muscular arms.  As the other two stagehands carried the previous scene’s set pieces off, he carried Cass out on to the stage, and set her down on the tape marks where her feet needed to go.  He took a moment to check her position, then grinned at her.  “Knock ‘em dead.”

“Thanks.”

As the stagehands bustled about, Cass reflected on how it had come to this.  Tara’s incredible ability to memorize and retain lines – Old Frankie had never once had to prompt her during rehearsals – had led Adam, the director, to rewrite the already rather warped ending to the show.  And to make it really work, they’d needed a special prop.  Old Frankie had approached Cass apologetically.  This prop was bigger than the others, too big for her usual tricks, and would ‘dear Cassie’ be OK with being on stage?

Cass had jumped at the opportunity without actually thinking it through.  And now the curtain was opening, revealing her as the Throne of Wonderland in all it’s ornate, gilded glory.  She schooled her features, and smiled serenely out at the audience.  Said audience consisted of all of six people tonight – the director, the producer, and a handful of friends of the cast who wanted a sneak peek.

Tara thundered and ranted on the stage, and cowed the Queen of Hearts into submission.  When she finally took her place on the throne, Cass smiled with pride, and almost missed her only line.  “I declare Alice Queen of Wonderland!”

The applause was loud despite the audience’s small size.  Both the director and the producer came up on stage to give everyone final notes, and both were effusive with praise for Old Frankie and Cass for their work on and as the throne.

Adam came up to her, looked for a hand to shake, and settled for patting the arm of the throne while talking to Cass’ face set high in the back.  “You did wonderfully.  Are you going to be OK doing this for the two week run?”

Cass reassured him she was fine, and that Brian was taking good care of her.

A little later Tim the producer approached her with Brian in tow.  “I understand Brian’s responsible for getting you to the theatre on time, Cassie?”

“It’s Cass.  And yes, I’ll meet him at the mall for the change, then he’ll drive me here in his pickup.  Is that a problem?”

Despite the casual look Tim’s hippie-like appearance gave, he could be very intense at times.  Now was one of them.  “I understand you’ve been arriving way after call.  I hate to raise the curtain without everyone here, especially someone as irreplaceable as you.”

Cass dimpled at the unintended compliment.  “I see.  Brian, is there any way you can get off work earlier?”

Brian shook his head.  “Sorry.  It’s the damned traffic that time of day.  Normally it’s only twenty minutes from the mall to here, but during rush hour...”

“There must be some way,” Tim mused with a glower.

“I know of one,” volunteered Old Frankie, who’d been sorting out props nearby.  “But it’s asking a lot of dear Cassie.”

“I’m game,” said Cass, before she even heard the plan.  “I love being up here, and I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“Brian and I will go off to the mall with you tonight, and change you for a month like all the other props.  Then you can be here the entire time.”

“What?” cried Tim and Brian together.

“I’ll do it.”

“What?” they cried again.

Cass smiled sadly down at them.  “I can’t find a job after that stupid harassment claim, and the monthly payout isn’t enough for me to live on my own.  Mom’s getting tired of me living in her basement.”

Frankie patted her armrest.  “I know.  You’ll see Cassie, it’s not so bad.”

Cass giggled hysterically.  “Not so bad?  Compared to listening to Mom and her new boyfriend go at it, sitting back here is heaven.”

Brian smiled at her encouragingly, hiding his uncertainty.  “I’ll come visit when I can, between shows.”

Less than an hour later, Frankie, Brian and Cass the throne were back at the theatre.  Frankie gave Brian her keys, and told him to lock up when he left.

“Well,” said Brian at last.  “Now what?”

Cass tried to shrug, but nothing except her face could move.  “I dunno.  Read me a story?”  Brian dug around backstage, and found some old scripts from previous plays.  He had a lovely voice, and made sure to include the comments scribbled in the margins, often to hilarious effect.

“Why aren’t you up on stage?” asked Cass, when Brian paused after the first act.

Brian shrugged shyly, shifting on the seat he’d pulled up in front of Cass.  “I can’t remember the lines.  I get all muddled and confused in front of an audience, and everyone laughs at me.  I don’t mind that, but...”

“You can’t exactly join them up on stage like that.  I’m just too shy.”

“But you got written into the play,” Brian pointed out.

“Yeah.  But like this I can’t flee in terror.  So it works.  Besides, it’s only one line, and to pronounce my best friend’s coronation at that.  I like it.”

“We’ll see you out there regularly yet,” Brian said with a grin, patting Cass on the armrest.

“As a prop?  That could be kind of fun, actually.”

Brian just shook his head, a gesture that briefly reminded Cass of things she couldn’t do.  Then he picked up his reading of the play at act two, and she stopped worrying.

By the time Brian had finished reading the play, his voice was creaky and he was yawning.  “Look, I’ve got to call it a night.  Work starts early.  Can I get you anything before I go.  Some water?  A snack?”

Cass smiled at him as kindly as she could.  “Thanks, but I’m fine.  Apparently thrones don’t need food.  Which is good, because going to the bathroom would be tricky.”

Brian laughed.  Cass loved that laugh, so big and round and jolly.  “Well then.  I bid you good night, and hope that thrones can sleep.”

“I hope so too,” whispered Cass as Brian left her alone, with only a little night-light for company.  She heard the door lock, and then she was alone backstage.  It was warm and dim, and smelled of the musty canvas of old flats, overlaid with fresh paint.  The final touches to the stage had only been finished the previous day.

Cass yawned, and closed her eyes.  The next thing she knew, Old Frankie was laying out props on the table.  She yawned again, and asked, “Is it showtime already?”

“Oh!  You’re awake, finally.  Call’s in five minutes, curtain in just over an hour.  Are you ready?”

Cass wiggled her mouth and tested her voice with a few warm up exercises she’d heard the actors using at rehearsals.  “Yep, good to go.”

Brian came to find her a little later.  “I’m sorry I didn’t come by earlier.  You must have been bored here all day.”

Cass smiled at him.  “No, it’s fine.  I slept almost as soon as you left.  I vaguely remember noticing it getting lighter at dawn, then I sort of faded out again and let myself just... exist.  Apparently thrones don’t get bored.”

Brian sat with her and talked about his day at work.  Cass would have talked about her day, but there “wasn’t much to tell.”  That earned her another of Brian’s lovely loud laughs, which in turn earned a shush from Frankie.

Brian went off for a while to help set up the chairs, and returned with a prize in hand.  “Look, Cass!  I have the program for the show.”

“Oh goodie, am I in it?”

Brian flipped through it, and nodded.  “As ‘Throne of Wonderland’.  Your name is Cassiopeia?”  He started to laugh uproariously.

Cass pouted at him.  “Hey!  It’s not that funny.”

Brian wiped a tear from his eye, ignoring Frankie’s dark look.  “It’s a long story... short version, I used to stay at my grandparents’ place a lot, in Dad’s old room.  On the ceiling was this old star chart, and Cassiopeia was in the middle of it.”

“Okay...  So you know I’m named after a constellation.  Dad was an astronomer.  Mom got tired of the hours... nevermind.  Why is this funny?”

“Because on the chart it said ‘Cassiopeia - the lady in the chair’.  Years later I learned it meant she sat on a throne.  But my twelve year old imagination had her looking... well, a lot like you do now.  The lady in the chair.  Cassiopeia.  See?  It’s perfect.”

Cass giggled.  “That’s a lot of significance to give a star chart.”

Brian shrugged.  “You don’t know the half of it.”

“What?  Tell me the rest...”

Frankie hissed at them that it was five minutes to curtain, and everything after that was rush, rush rush.  Cass didn’t manage to get more than a glimpse or two of Brian before the bright stage lights went up and the curtains rushed open.  She couldn’t see the crowd from backstage, but she could hear it.  It sounded like a lot of people.  She tried to ask how many, but got shushed by Frankie.

At the intermission, she finally found out that there were almost a hundred tickets sold, which was pretty good for their auditorium theatre on opening night.  Brian stole Frankie’s chair for five minutes to sit and chat with Cass, laughing about some of the fumbled lines from act one.  Worse, one of the sound cues had run late, and Tara had been forced to improvise for almost a minute.  Cass hadn’t even noticed.  Brian grinned.  “She’s the best.  I don’t know how she does it, or why she sticks with dinky little places like this.”

“She’s always been good with roles,” said Cass.  “Ever since we met in chemo as kids.  You should have seen her with her first wig, it was like love at first sight.  She became a completely different person when she wore it.  Then she borrowed my wig, and did a better job of playing me than I do!”

Brian wanted to know more about Tara, but the two minute warning came around and again it was all business to make sure that everything was in place for the next scene.  He sat quietly next to Cass when he wasn’t needed, his hand on her arm-rest a comforting warmth.

Then it was time.  Cass watched the curtain whisk aside and tried her best to school her expression to that of an impartial throne.  It was difficult, she could feel all the eyes on her before the scene started.  Then Tara was on stage, and everyone was looking at ‘Alice’ instead.  Cass peered out into the audience, though she couldn’t make out much.  The stage lights were blinding compared to the relative dark of the rest of auditorium.  Giving up on that, she contented herself with watching Tara tear through her lines with even more fire and conviction than she’d had in rehearsal.  She could barely recognize her friend.  The body language, the expressions, everything was different.  The only sign that Tara was still in there was the brief smile and wink she gave Cass before sitting on her.

“I proclaim Alice Queen of Wonderland!” Cass called out, clearly for once.  She felt Tara squeeze her armrest reassuringly, then the crowd went wild.  The curtains closed, reopened once more for a curtain call.  Brian came up behind her and carried her up to the front of the stage for the final bow.  Cass was thrilled.

Afterward was the bustle and business of getting everything back in place for tomorrow night’s show.  The actors all filed off to the changerooms to get their makeup off, and normal clothes back on.  It had finally gotten quiet backstage when Tara showed up to give Cass a hug.

“Thanks for being part of the show, love!  I know it’s a weird role, but I’m glad it’s you.  Are you having fun?”

Cass giggled.  “Oh, it’s a blast!  Brian has nice strong arms, it’s fun to be carried everywhere I go.  Makes me feel special.”

“Cool. You make me look even more fabulous up there.  Thanks for taking time out of your busy schedule to do this.”

“Right.  So busy after that stupid manager blackballed me...”  Cassie sighed.  “Ah well.  Water under the bridge.  This is fun, and it gets me out of the house.”

“For a little while, anyway.   Oops, here comes your carrier, see you two tomorrow night!”

Brian waved shyly to Tara as she left, then pulled up a chair beside Cass.  “Hey, lady in the chair.  How are you holding up?”

Cass entirely failed to shrug, then rolled her eyes.  “Other than the occasional urge to stretch, not bad.  It’s remarkably comfortable being a chair.  And nobody’s accusing me of being a layabout, and doing nothing with my life.”

“Comfortable?” asked Brian, curiously.

“Yeah.  I don’t get leg cramps from standing still, or hunger pangs.  I can’t feel any of my bruises, either.  It’s nice.  I can feel touches on my fabric parts, but nothing hurts.”

“There are good things about having a body,” protested Brian.

“Such as?” asked Cass, honestly.

“Like being able to...  I mean...  Well, eating.”

Cass stuck out her tongue and wrinkled her nose.  “You haven’t tried my Mom’s cooking.  Pass.”

“Um, what about the smell of pretty flowers?”

“I can still smell just fine.”

They argued the point back and forth until Brian conceded that Cass seemed remarkably happy as she was.  He seemed pleased to have lost the argument.  Once the discussion wound down, he brought out his tablet, and cued up one of his favourite movies.

Brian tried a few different ways of sitting so both he and Cass could see the movie.  First he sat facing her, and held the tablet so the movie was right-way-round for her, but not for him.  Cass protested that he should be able to see it, too.  Moving his chair beside her didn’t work very well, as the Throne of Wonderland was quite wide and tall.  He couldn’t find a comfortable way to hold up the tablet so they both could see it.  Eventually Cass talked him into sitting in her.  Once he finally conceded that argument, he hopped up onto her cushion quite readily, almost eagerly.

Cass smiled once she knew he couldn’t see her expression.  Having someone sit in her was the highlight of being furniture.  It fulfilled her sense of purpose.

They watched the movie together, with Cass occasionally commenting on it.  Before long, Brian got into the spirit of it too, and soon they were both heckling it and laughing.  Once the movie was over Brian yawned and stretched, provoking a tiny spark of jealousy that flickered only briefly then died.

“I’m beat, Cass.  Nearly fell asleep in you there at the end.  You’re really cozy.  I’ll see you tomorrow, OK?”

“I won’t go anywhere,” promised Cass with a smile.  That got her another laugh.

The first week of the run went on much the same.  Cass slept until Old Frankie showed up to sort out the props, then there was the frantic bustle of the the show itself.  Brian stayed with her for hours after each one, reading or watching shows.  He even managed to get the latest episode of her favourite TV show onto his tablet, and despite his grumping about it being brainless he did laugh along with her while watching it.

After everyone left, Cass would be alone with her thoughts, and the warm, cozy smells of the theatre.  Sometimes she’d dream of being carried away to wherever the flats were stored, tucked away until the next show just like them.  The first time she had that dream it had scared her awake.  But by the end of the week, it just made her smile.

Saturday was more of a whirl of activity than usual, as they were doing a matinee as well as an evening show.  Brian stayed with her between the performances.  After the second show was done, Tim came up to Cass and congratulated her on the good job.  He also pointed out that the show was ‘dark’ for the next two days, so she didn’t need to stay the next two nights.

As Tim walked off, Brian turned to Cass to ask, “Want me to run you to the Venn Machine then back to your home?”

Cass sighed.  “Honestly?  No.  I’d rather stay here like this than go home.”

“Really?”

“Really.  Heck, I’d rather be carted down to wherever they store the flats between shows and left there than go home.”

“That bad, huh?  Fair enough.  I guess I could come by for Sunday, but I have to work again Monday.”

Cass bit her lip, hesitated, then came at her question sideways.  “What would you normally do on Sunday, if you didn’t come see me?”

Brian shrugged expressively.  “After a week like this?  Sleep in way late, do my grocery shopping for the week, then flake out and play silly video games for hours.”

“Sounds good.  Can I come with you?”

Brian stared at her with an unreadable expression.  “Like you are now?  Or do you want to be changed back to normal?”

“Normal sucks.  You said you could use a better chair, and you know I’m comfy.”

Brian grinned, a huge, open smile that she’d never seen on him before.  “Cool.”

Getting Cass into Brian’s basement apartment took some backing and filling.  She was quite large but thankfully nowhere near as heavy as she looked.  Her frame looked like it was made of gold, but it was only gilt over what felt like some kind of extra-strong balsa wood.  Lifting her wasn’t the problem, maneuvering her down the stairs and through the door was.  Still, she fit.  Just.

“I’m not looking forward to getting you back out of here on Tuesday,” Brian said at last, once Cass was settled in front of his computer.

“I am.  You have strong hands.”

Brian couldn’t help but chuckle at that.

He spent Sunday much as he’d said, and Cass dozed in place until he had packed away his groceries.  She had fun kibitzing the games he played, though she did point out just how ludicrous some of them were.

“Really?  That’s how you open that door?  Is it possible to come up with a more obscure way to do it?”

“Yeah, you should have seen some of the older games.  Crawling all over the screen looking for that one pixel you had to touch to solve the puzzle.  Some game designers seem to hate gamers.”

“And yet here you are.”

Brian laughed.  “Hey, most of them are fun.  And the rush you get when you finally solve the impossible puzzle is great, too.”

“I’d think so, just from the sheer relief from frustration.”

Brian snorted, and continued the game.

Later, when he made dinner, Brian offered Cass some of it.  She laughed, and noted that she hadn’t needed to eat for a week, and wasn’t going to start now.  She also admitted that it smelled good, and asked if he could at least waft some of it near her so she could enjoy it.  Brian pulled up his battered old desk-chair next to her, and ate while balancing his plate on his lap, so that Cass could smell everything.

“You seem like a pretty good cook,” Cass said as Brian was finishing up his dinner.  “At least if the smell is anything to go by.”

“Thanks.  Grandma taught me how, since my Mother...”  He sighed.  “Let’s just say she wasn’t a great role model, and leave it at that.”

“Okay.  But if you ever do want to talk about it...  I know about lousy role models, believe me.”

Brian patted her armrest.  “We can compare scars some other time.”

Monday was quiet for Cass, until Brian came back from work.  She got to smell another of his dinners, then he pointed out that she needed to be back at the theatre, and he might not have time to pick her up after work.

“Back to sleeping in the theater?  I can manage,” said Cass resignedly.  She’d liked listening to Brian sleeping.  Feeling that someone was nearby was nicer than being alone, but she didn’t tell him that.

Once the show started up again, Cass forgot anything but the wonder of the theatre.  It seemed that she only existed for the show, and the evenings with Brian afterward.

All too soon, the second week of the run was coming to a close, and after the last show on Saturday Tim and Adam came backstage after the final curtain call to congratulate everyone.  Then there was the bustle of striking the set, putting all the flats away in storage.  For a moment Cass fantasized again about being taken below the stage with the flats, and stored somewhere quiet and dark.  Brian noticed the look of longing on her face, and asked if she was ready to be changed back.  Cass demurred, and when Frankie joined in to argue she should change back before the wrap party, she begged to attend as the throne.

“Let me hang on to this for just a little longer, please?”  She might not have had hands to beg with, but her eyes did the trick all the same.  Brian relented, but insisted that he’d drive her to the Venn Machine directly after the party.

If anything, the wrap party was even more fun than being involved in the stage production itself.  With all the stress of the show off their shoulders, everyone was relaxed and goofy... even before they started drinking.  Even without alcohol in her bloodstream – not that she had one of those at present – Cass had a lot of fun.  She talked everyone she could into sitting in her, declaring each one in turn Queen of Wonderland whether they were male or female.

The party wound down in the wee hours, and Brian carried Cass out to his pickup.  Frankie had given him the evil eye about driving in his condition, but Brian had laughed it off.  It turned out he was perfectly capable of acting silly on nothing more than three tins of root beer.

“Alright, Cass.  Time to take you home.”

“I thought I didn’t fit in your place very well.”

“No, I meant back to your home,” Brian said with some confusion.

“Bah.  Why would I want to go there.  I’d much rather go home with you.”

“I really don’t need a throne, Cass.  You’re comfy and all, nicer by far than my garage sale junk heap, but...  I can’t keep you like that.”

“Fine.”

But at the mall, Cass started in on Brian again.  “Are you sure you don’t need a replacement chair?  Something light, portable, and comfy?  Luxurious leather finishings... it all can be yours.”

“Are you sure you’re not drunk?” asked Brian, but Cass could see a glint of something in his eye.

“You like the idea.  Think about it.  We could keep watching shows together, or I could listen to you read.  I could listen to you read forever, and be happy.”

“My voice might get a little tired,” Brian said reluctantly.

“But you’d be talking to a girl.  I saw you at the party, you were awfully shy with all the other girls.  What was up with that?”

Brian set her down by the Venn Machine and sighed.  “I guess I find them... intimidating.  You’re a chair, it’s hard to be intimidated by furniture.”

“So think of it as getting a chance to practice talking to a girl you like.  One that’s letting you transform her into the furniture of your choosing.”

Brian’s eyes sparkled.  “If you’re sure...   How long?”

“Another month.  Please?  I want to really experience life as furniture.”

Brian licked his lips and nodded.  “A month it is.”  He set the machine, then placed Cass inside.  When he stepped into the other side, Cass was staring down at her body as if not really sure what to do with it.

“You’re not still thinking of yourself as a chair, are you?” Brian asked softly.

“Kinda.  C’mon, turn me into furniture.  You know you want to,” Cass taunted.

“You have no idea...” muttered Brian.  But before he started trying out ideas in the Venn Machine interface he looked Cass over.  The way she was standing...  “Are you OK, Cass?  You look...”

“I’ll be fine.  Just some old aches and pains that I’ve had a couple weeks to forget about.”

“Really?”

“Really.  They’ll go away when I’m your chair again.  To be honest, they’re not as bad as I remember, it was more the surprise.”

“Fine,” Brian said.  He turned his attention back to the interface.  It didn’t take long to find a chair design he liked, but blending it with Cass properly took a while.

Cass had been digging through her purse and chuckled softly.  “Well, I’ll be...”

“What?”

“My cell phone still has a full charge.  Crazy, huh?”

Brian hesitated, his hand near the button.  “Um... do you want the phone out?  ‘Cause we kind of have to leave the booth to do that.”

“What would a chair do with a cell phone?”

“I could set it up with voice activation, so you could chat with your friends.  I could even set it to run over my wireless connection, so you wouldn’t run out of minutes.”

“Oh!  That would be cool.  Pretty please?”

So they hopped out of the Machine, Cass still unsteady on her legs but no longer visibly wincing as she moved.  She stumbled once, and Brian’s strong arms caught her.  Looking up into his frightened eyes she smiled softly.  “I won’t bite, you know.  Thanks.”

Brian stammered an apology and put Cass’s cell in his pocket without looking at her again.  She was glad to go back into the Venn Machine, and relieved when that skittish look went away.  His face as he focussed on picking out just the right shape for her was intent, but also kind of cute.

And then she wasn’t human anymore.  Cass grinned as she looked down at her changed body, all rich brown leather and padded curves.  She sighed happily as the aches and pains went away.

“You OK over there?”  Brian asked worriedly.

“Never better.”

Brian wheeled her out of the Venn Machine to a squeal of surprise.  Feeling her feet spin around was a very odd experience, but soon it made her giggle.  “Wheels are weird.”

Brian stopped.  “Is that bad?  I just figured you wanted to be, you know, a computer chair.  A nice cozy one, but also one that I can move easily from computer to kitchen when I eat dinner.”

“No, it’s good.  Just...”

“Yes?”

“Promise you’ll pick me up once in a while, too.  I like the feel of your strong arms around me.”

Brian stepped behind her, crouched to slip his arms under hers, then wrapped his arms around what felt like her waist.  She squealed happily as she was hoisted into the air, and giggled all the way to his truck.

She was a lot smaller now, she realized.  That was handy when it came to carrying her down the stairs into Brian’s basement apartment.  There was no cursing or bumping into the walls involved this time.

Brian set her by the computer, then gave her a quick hug and started getting ready for bed.

“Goodnight, Cassiopeia, my lady in the chair.”

Cass smiled into the darkness.  “Goodnight Brian.”